


Gods walk the Earth in Star City

by WritingMonkey



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arguing, Drama, F/F, F/M, Fights, Jealous Felicity Smoak, Jealous Oliver Queen, Jealousy, M/M, Mystery, Olicity is OTP everything else is drama, Oracles, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prophecy, Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-08-13 10:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20172553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingMonkey/pseuds/WritingMonkey
Summary: After appearing out of nowhere, a strange man named Oliver Queen walks into the office of Overwatch Private Detectives, looking for someone from his past. He offers millions of dollars in cash to the agency to solve her murder, but doesn't give them any information besides that she died at the hands of someone in Star City. Someone powerful and extremely dangerous.Felicity is intrigued. And a little smitten, but I mean, who wouldn't be? She isn't the only one either as he almost instantly becomes part of a love triangle between the constantly warring Lance sisters. But as they slowly find more and more information about the murder, Felicity can't shake the feelings he brings up in her and she's convinced he feels them too. So, why does he keep distancing himself from her?





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A strange man appears out of nowhere on the shore of a deserted island. Who he is and what is he looking for?

Since the beginning of the universe, gods and goddesses, deities and personifications of the divine have been born and reborn time and time again. Some have ruled over their charges for millennia while others fade into the past, their names never remembered and their faces shrouded in mystery and lore.

But there is never anything new. Gods are reborn into new families, with new names and new powers, but they are always born to fill mantles as old as the beginning of the universe. Discord, harmony, love, intelligence.

From an ageless line unbroken from the time of the ancients of Chaos, Erebus and Gaia, countless royal courts of the gods had existed, child overthrowing parent again and again, as the world shifted and changed, as humans evolved, different deities became rulers of the divine plane throughout history. The gods rarely left their realm, preferring the comfort and luxury of their self-designed world.

But on one dark, rainy night, a god left the divine plane in an explosive bolt of lightning, landing on the shores of a desolate island in the North China sea. Standing from the crouch he had landed in, the god looks around at his new surroundings, taking in the wooded desolation. He senses his goal across the sea, towards the faint glow of a city. And he knew that in order to find what he was looking for, he needed to swim hundreds of miles to the mainland. He stripped out of his clothes, leaving them on the beach as he dove into the freezing cold water, swimming steadily and tirelessly towards the city of Hong Kong.

On the pier of the city, a small group of men were surreptitiously loading boxes of illegal goods onto a boat. The overseers growled orders at the group of men, subtly threatening them with guns displayed on their belts. The men loading the boxes keep their gaze down, staying silent and submissive to the dangerous men who had promised them money.

The loud sounds of water sloshing on the rocks of the beach a mere twenty feet away drew the attention of the group, forcing the men gathered in their illegal activities to pause and investigate. Two men with pistols drawn walk toward the sounds, finding a half-naked man walking calmly from the freezing cold bay. They aimed and shouted for him to stop and raise his hands above his head. No one could know they had been here.

The man stops, lifting his dripping head to look at the men and their guns. His intensely blue eyes pin them in place, and they are suddenly frozen as the man's eyes seem to judge and find them wanting.

"Let me pass. I don't want to hurt you," he says in perfect Mandarin, his voice dark and harsh, a blink releasing the two from his gaze.  
The two men glance uneasily at each other, uncomfortable with the clear danger this strange white man could present to them. For a moment, they seem inclined to do as he says when their boss comes to investigate.

"What is it, dog whelps? Something wash ashore?" he insults as he walks closer, stunned into temporary silence by the strange man standing knee-deep in the water, his body still dripping and his multitudinous scars in sharp relief, broadcasting the danger he posed.

The boss was not one to back down from a dangerous man however, so despite his instincts screaming at him to run and let this man pass, he calls out to him in Mandarin, "Who are you? Why are you here?"

The man's gaze snaps to the boss, pinning him as he had the others. The strange man steps forward.

"You have hurt many, Fan Wei. Many souls wish their revenge on you."

The boss pulls his gun, trying to hide the shake in his fingers as he threatens the strange man. "How do you know my name? Tell me or you'll be dead before you can move a muscle!"

The man blinks and then flies out of the water, whoshing past the two closer men in a blur of skin. The strange man stops in front of the boss, easily disarming him by twisting his wrist and breaking it, bringing the boss to his knees. The injured man sputters and grunts loudly in pain, trying to regain his footing and gain the upper hand when the strange man puts his hands around the boss's neck in one breath.

"You have hurt many people. You have failed and forfeit your life to pay for your crimes."

And he snaps the man's neck in one fluid, practiced move. The body crumples at the feet of the strange man and his two former employees squeak and run before the deadly man in front of them decides they too should die.

The man himself simply kneels down and touches the forehead of the life he just took, leaving a green mark in the shape of an arrow there before standing and walking away into the city.

In an abandoned factory on the edge of the water, he finds a large wooden box with wads of cash, clothing and a bow and arrow. A blue passport lies on top of the items. He opens it to reveal a handwritten note with the words ‘Overwatch Private Detectives, Star City’ and a picture of his face next to the name ‘Oliver Queen’. His search begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment or a kudos, it is my ambrosia.  
I based this fic a little bit on the pantheon of the Ancient Greek Gods (you know, Zeus, Hera blah blah blah), the book and TV series American Gods, this really cool short on YouTube called 'Kiss of the Rabbit God' (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bmCw-e72zs8) and my interpretation of the characters of the Arrowverse (TV). I do not own any of those properties and full credit to the creators of said amazing works which have inspired this little ditty.  
I also wanted to explain myself a little further when it comes to how the succession of gods in Ancient Greek mythology works, a concept which I've borrowed for the work. In the lore of Ancient Greece, the 12 Olympian gods were actually the 3rd generation of gods to rule over the Earth, the Primodials (Gaia, Erebus, Tartarus etc.) being the first. The children of Gaia and her son-husband Uranus (I know...) were called the Titans and overthrew them and ruled second. This is the generation of gods like Cronus, Rhea and Prometheus. Then the son of Cronus and his sister-wife Rhea overthrew his father and ruled during the time of the Ancient Greeks (about 1100 BCE to around 146 BCE). This was the Olympians. So, I thought it would be kinda cool and interesting to imagine that this pattern continued as the world evolved and changed, meaning that new generations of gods were always being born and the ruler of the gods would be overthrown every few millenia by their children, who would birth a new generation etcera, ectera to the modern era. Each generation's leader would be slightly different and doesn't have to be a sky god. For instance, during the Renaissance, a god of knowledge and science might be the head.  
I hope this clears up any initial questions you might have, but I will have the characters explain more about this later on in the fic.  
Happy reading and let me know what you thought in the comments below!


	2. Chapter 1: Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Monday is just not agreeing with Felicity Smoak, the co-CEO of Overwatch Private Detectives. No coffee, frumpy outfit, traffic and angry and/or crying clients is not how she likes to come back from the weekend.

Felicity hates Mondays. She knows most people hate Mondays, and there’s good reason to, going back to work after a scant few days of rest and relaxation is not going to be fun no matter how much you like your job. And Felicity loves her job.

  
But Mondays mean that she’ll get into the office with about a hundred messages left by their clients over the weekend screaming at her to do her job better or they’ll fire her or call some important powerful friends they think will scare her. Or crying clients bawling their eyes out about their missing children or their missing iguana (it’s happened), begging her to find them for the millionth time. And as much as those messages still affect her, she knows she can’t work without taking breaks every once in a while.

  
And this Monday is shaping up to be even worse than regular Mondays. Her coffee-maker had broken somehow in the middle of the night, so now she was without the delicious and vital caffeine she needed to get through the day. And her dress had decided to rip while she was running through the house after breakfast, so she’d had to change at the last minute, leaving behind her favorite dress and having to go for a blush button-down and striped skirt that made her feel less than stunning instead. And because she was a couple minutes later than usual, she’d gotten stuck in the early morning traffic going into the city too.

  
Sitting behind the wheel of her little red Coop, Felicity fumes at the cars stacked in front of her, cursing her luck on his particular morning and drumming her fingers impatiently. The urge to lean on her horn and annoy everyone else stuck in this pileup is quite strong, but she resists, knowing that it won’t help anything and it won’t make her feel better. The throbbing headache she’s currently nursing because she hadn’t had coffee yet doesn’t help matters either.

  
“Oh you!” she yells, giving in to her urges and leaning on her horn to show her anger at the car that had just cut in front of her. “You bastard! Ugh, we’re all late, you can’t just cut in front of me!”

  
Luckily for said bastard, the pileup finally starts moving again and Felicity allows her fury to simmer down just a little. A few minutes later she pulls into her parking spot in the office building that houses the many small companies and startups near the edge of the Glades. She steps out of her car, barely remembering her messenger bag before she runs to the elevator being held by Gary, the tech guy for the consultant firm a floor above Overwatch. She smiles politely, keeping her eyes forward, subtly discouraging him from starting a conversation before she reaches her floor.

  
“So, how was your weekend, Felicity?” he asks, and she sighs.

  
“It was good, Gary.” She keeps her answer short and clipped, she barely has the energy to deal with Gary on a good morning, and she definitely doesn’t have the energy for him today.

  
“That’s good,” he says back, launching into his entire weekend, including his elderly neighbor waking him up at 7am on Sunday morning to complain about their landlord for the fifteenth time and Felicity just glares at the elevator doors, her temper steadily rising as his rant continues.

  
She knows that he likes her. She sees it on his face whenever he sees her in the building, but no matter how much she tries to discourage him, he always hits on her in the weirdest, slightly endearing and nerdy ways. Like asking her to come over to watch the new episode of Doctor Who or helping him find some rare comic book that’s rumored to be somewhere in the city. Every time she turns him down, he’s obviously disappointed, but he never seems to be able to take the hint.

  
The elevator dings and Felicity rushes out, barely shouting a bye over her shoulder before she runs towards the office entrance. She hears the elevator doors close behind her, Gary’s voice fading into the background. She sighs, resting for a moment outside the door and tries to breathe through her rage, her coffee headache still pounding itself through her mind. Her knuckles whiten as she contemplates her terrible day so far.

  
But, things can always turn around. Maybe she won’t have a million messages to deal with when she opens the door. Maybe Sara can be convinced to pick her up a double shot latte before she comes in. Maybe they won’t have to deal with the uber headache that is Mr. Granald calling for the millionth time about his ‘missing’ wife who was actually in the Cayman islands with her boy toy after filing for divorce a month ago.

  
Alas, Felicity can hear the ringing phone on the other side of the glass and she pushes herself off the wall, unlocking the doors and walking through them to the lobby of Overwatch Private Detectives. Her business. Well, her and Diggle’s.

  
Despite the angrily blinking phone lines at the reception desk, she pauses to look at the sturdy and serious sign dominating the wall opposite the double doors with their name in blocky wooden letters. Everytime she sees it, a surge of pride and excitement runs through her body. Even though it ate up almost a quarter of their startup fund.

  
The phone rings again and Felicity groans, flopping down onto the chair at the reception desk and picking it up.

  
“Hello, this is Overwatch Private Detectives, Felicity speaking. How can I help you?” she says in a cool, practiced monotone. She knows by now how to go about someone calling the office an hour before they open on a Monday morning. Cool monotone is the way to go. Too excited and they think you’re having fun and no matter who it is, people don’t like that in their private detectives.

  
“Hello, I...uh...I just had to call again, miss!” the voice cries and Felicity recognizes Mrs. Pollard. Looking for her missing son. Oh boy, what a way to start the day. The crying woman sobs for a while and Felicity can pick up a few words here and there about how beautiful her son is and how you just have to find him and how the police in his city were no help at all. Felicity sighs and launches into her practiced speech calmly.

  
“Mrs. Pollard. I understand this is a very frustrating and scary time for you and all you want to do is find your son. I can promise you that I will do everything in my power to find him and bring him back to you. This is what I do, Mrs. Pollard. I help people find who they’re looking for and I bring families back together. And you can help me do my job, okay? I want you to go make yourself a nice cup of your favorite tea and visit a good friend of yours. I want you to go talk to someone about this and let me do my job, okay? All right, Mrs. Pollard?”

  
The woman on the other end of the line sniffles, but Felicity can tell that she’s been convinced. She tearfully says goodbye, thanking her a hundred times and hangs up a minute later. Felicity sighs and sets her things on the desk before going through the messages on the phone, approximately half of which are crying clients like Mrs. Pollard and the other half are screaming about how they’re going to sue for their money back or some shit. Felicity deletes those.

  
About half an hour later, Diggle rushes in, briefcase in hand and already pulling at his tie uncomfortably. He always did hate wearing one and Felicity keeps telling him that he owns his own business now, he doesn’t have to wear ties anymore, but then that starts a lecture on professionalism and how appearance is the first thing people judge them for. Felicity always laughs about that, reminding him that their website and their Yelp reviews are the first things people actually see. And then he grumbles and stalks out to go do a hundred pushups.

  
As Diggle smiles in greeting and goes back to his office, Felicity is pulled back into the memories of starting this business in the first place.

-

_“Hey Felicity! Here again?” John Diggle calls over at the sight of the pony-tailed tech genius Felicity Smoak in the office for the fifth time that week. “Don’t you have an actual job?”_

  
_ Felicity snorts absentmindedly, her focus on her laptop screen in front of her, scrolling through the internet posts of some defendant Sara must be trying to find. “Yeah, so?”_

  
_ Dig sits down next to Felicity, a smile creeping onto his face. Felicity in the offices of Canary Bail Bonds is always a welcome sight in his mind. It means that they’re going to find their guy a lot easier than usual. And, she usually tempers Sara’s more destructive and vindictive urges, only working with Sara if she promises not to hurt the defendant bringing them in._

  
_ “So,” he starts, “why don’t you just work here? It’s obvious you like this a lot better and I for one think you make us a better company. You’re pretty much the only one who can keep Sara from going all ninja on a defendant.”_

  
_ Felicity finally looks up, a slightly sad look in her blue eyes. “Yeah…” she trails. “That’s why she won’t hire me…”_

  
_ Dig nods. He suspected that was the reason she wasn’t a part of the tech team already. Sara liked, more than anything, to be the one in control. It was her business and she stayed within legal limits most of the time so Dig couldn’t really complain. Plus, she signed his paychecks._

  
_ “So, why don’t you figure out a way to do something like this at Palmer Tech?” he asks. “You don’t have to stay beholden to Sara. She’s not the only way to use your insane talents to find hard-to-find people.”_

  
_ Felicity snorts lightly, turning her attention back to her screen. “Dig, I’m not the CEO. I’m head of IT, I can’t exactly just go up to Mr. Palmer’s office and ask him if he needs me to find anybody. No, that would be way too weird.” Her cheeks heat a little at the imagined embarrassment. “Nope, this is the best I can do for now.”_

  
_ Dig frowns a little. He knows Felicity. He’s known her for years, ever since Sara brought her in on the Harpshire case, introducing her as extra tech help. The best techie money can buy, she’d said. And Dig wholeheartedly agrees. Felicity is a certified genius and is THE BEST at finding people who’d skipped out on their bail. She obviously loves it too. The fist pumps and loud explosions of joy when she finally cracks it and finds their guy is the evidence of that._

  
_ But, he hates seeing her constrained by Sara. And as much as he likes his job, he knows it isn’t what he wants to do for the rest of life. Maybe the two of them could do something together. And then it hits him like a bolt of lightning to the brain._

  
_ “Hey Felicity,” he starts, and she looks up from her screen, her eyebrows raised in question. “You wanna start a business with me?”_

_-_

After that, it had been fate. Well, not so much fate as something they were willing to go to great lengths to achieve. Going to countless different banks asking for small business loans, organizing fundraisers, saving every penny until they had enough to start a lease on a small office on the 13th floor of a high-rise just on the edge of The Glades. Those early months, they worked around the clock bringing in clients and making ends meet.

  
Now, things were really starting to come together. They had started to break even about two months ago and they even had a few regulars. Sara hires them every once in a while to help her find particularly slippery guys and her sister Laurel also comes in every few weeks with requests for certain hard-to-find information for the DA.

  
And Felicity loves it. Becoming a private detective with Dig is probably the best life choice she ever made. Everyday she gets to use her skills to solve puzzles and find people and information that needs to be found. And she wouldn’t give up any bit of it. Even the crazy clients.

  
Her little trip down memory lane has Felicity staring absently down at her laptop screen, lost in thought. The algorithm she’s been working on to help boost their search power is still returning errors and the nagging headache is getting worse. Coffee, she needs to get coffee.

  
But, before Felicity can see about convincing Sara to grab her a cup on her way to their standing lunch date, the blonde can feel eyes on her. Like focused laser beams trained directly on her head.

  
She looks up from her laptop and her mouth falls open.

  
‘Oh, damn...handsome guy in the lobby. It must be Christmas…’

The guy tilts his head and frowns, looking remarkably like a dog and opens his mouth.

  
“It’s July,” he says emotionlessly and Felicity realizes she must have said out loud. Well, shit.

“Oh...uh…” Why the hell can’t she talk? Her mouth is all dry and she can’t remember a single word she could be saying right now. Sorry? Is that the one?

  
“Sorry!” she blurts out and that seems to break open the floodgates.

  
“You’re very handsome. But I shouldn’t be saying that. Not that you aren’t! You very much are. You’re probably the prettiest man I’ve ever seen. Not that you’re pretty...handsome! But, I shouldn’t be saying anything like that. And, it’s obviously not Christmas. And I’m Jewish anyway, so-”

  
The guy clears his throat, looking at her intently. Oh, god those blue eyes. She could get lost in them for hours.

  
“Right...shouldn’t babble either. Uh...well, welcome to Overwatch Private Detectives, I’m Felicity Smoak, I’m the CEO. Well, co-CEO. With Dig. I mean, my partner John Diggle. And, I don’t mean partner, like partner. I mean like business partner. Just business partners.”

  
The guy standing in front of her with eyes glinting like there’s a fire dancing inside him and the ripped physique she can tell is under his clothes smiles lightly.

  
“Felicity,” he breathes out, nodding his head in acknowledgment politely.

  
A silence settles over the two as Felicity stares openly at the literal god standing in her office, trying desperately to remember what she should be doing right now.

  
“What are you doing here?” she asks, flinching slightly at her phrasing. “I mean, how can I help you?” She locates her legs and stands up across from him and despite her four inch heels, she still has to look up at him.

  
The guy puts a black duffle bag on the counter and unzips it, revealing stacks upon stacks of hundred dollar bills neatly clipped into $1,000 bundles. Holy...

  
“My name is...Oliver Queen and I require your services.”

  
“Uh…”

  
“I need you to find my wife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please leave a kudos or a comment, I survive on nothing else!  
Let me know how you liked this chapter and please keep the comment section a nice happy place for everyone!  
Thanks!  
Monkey


	3. Chapter 2: The Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fucking wife. Well, great Smoak, you just flirted with a Married Man. Any other ways she can stick her foot into her mouth before she dies of embarrasement?

Felicity stares blankly at the stacks of hundreds in the open duffle bag. Wife. Of course a guy this handsome and built would have a wife. And she babbled right to face about how handsome he was. She can feel her cheeks flame in embarrassment. Way to go, Smoak, you just flirted with a married man. An insanely handsome and ripped married man standing in your lobby with a bag full of cash that looks like it totaled $30,000.

“Oh…” She doesn’t know what to say. Should she apologize? Or just ignore it and start actually treating him like a client? Definitely the later. Go for the later.

She shakes her head to try and clear the cotton balls that seem to have crept in since she first laid eyes on the strange, ridiculously handsome man still standing in her lobby whose eyes make her legs feel like Jello.

“Well...uh...Mr. Queen, I am sorry that that happened. Not that I know what happened, but I assume it wasn’t good. I mean, showing up at a private detective agency means it wasn’t good, right?” She stops yet another epic babble by biting her bottom lip, keeping all the errant thoughts inside like she should have done from the beginning.

McDreamy NiceBody nods lightly, his perfect, sinful lips stretching into a slight smile.

“You were recommended to me.”

Felicity breaks into a wide smile. Well, it looks like their business is finally starting to actually pull in customers from their small base of clients. Isn’t that something?

“Oh, really, who was it that recommended us, I’d love to thank them!” She’s finally gotten her rambling under control. Thank Google…

But McDreamy’s face falls and his jaw clenches. Oh boy, he’s even hotter when he broods. His jaw gets all tense and his eyes could burn a hole through the floor. Felicity thinks her ovaries might just start melting. The silence stretches awkwardly until Felicity swears she can hear the hum of the fluorescent lights above her.

“Well,” she starts. “Let’s uh...might as well get started, right?” His eyes flick up to her and pin her to the spot. It feels almost like he has X-ray vision to her brain and he’s going through every thought she’s had in her life. Her pulse rockets and her breathing gets erratic, desire shooting down her spine unexpectedly. His intense blue eyes narrow and he tilts his head, leaning in a little, looking confused.

Another shot of desire runs down her spine and breaks into her fuzzy brain. She definitely needs to stop the feelings. Having this sort of reaction to a client looking at her is not a good way to start their relationship. And he’s married. Right, she’s being hired to find his wife. Focus on that, Smoak.

“Dig?” she calls out, breaking eye contact with Married Client Guy to look over her shoulder down the hall towards the rest of the offices. A moment later, Dig pokes his head out his office door, instantly seeing Married Client Guy standing behind her and walks out, buttoning his blazer and offering his hand.

“Hello. My name is John Diggle. I see you've met my partner Felicity Smoak. Welcome to Overwatch Private Detectives. How can we help you?” How is Dig so well-spoken and calm? Felicity is still reeling and her brain feels like a cloud invaded it just from standing across from this guy for two minutes.

“I require your services to find my wife,” Married Client Guy says, gesturing to the open duffle bag on the reception counter. Dig looks from Married Client Guy to the duffle and back again, nodding slowly.

“Alright, why don’t you come sit down in the conference room and we’ll be in in a moment to ask you some questions. And we’ll see what we can do about finding your wife."

Married Client Guy nods and Dig leads him to the conference room, shutting the door before walking purposely back to the reception desk, and leaning in closely to Felicity.

“Can you trace that?” he whispers, nodding to the money. “Figure out if he stole it or something?”

“I’m insulted that you had to ask me that, Dig,” Felicity replies blandly. “Wait, you think he stole it?”

“That much money in cash is suspect, Felicity. It could be stolen or he could be involved in the mafia or anything else I don’t want us to be within 5 feet of. I’d rather know how much we can trust this guy now before we get involved.”

Felicity nods. He isn’t wrong. That much cash in a duffle bag is weird, no matter how much she feels like they can trust McDreamy. Who’s Married. And a Client. She shakes herself and takes a bundle of hundreds out of the duffle, trying not to think about the fact that she’s holding $1,000 in her hand right now.

She sits down at her laptop, quickly typing in the serial number of the top bill and looking through the results. “Okay, well this is weird.”

Dig leans over, staring at the results, even Felicity knows he has no idea what the code means. “Stolen?” he asks bluntly.

“No, not as far as I can tell. It looks like this bill is associated with a large cash withdrawal from the Merlyn Global Group Hong Kong bank account two days ago.”

“So, he stole it from Merlyn Global Group?”

Felicity looks a little further into the transaction. Law enforcement would probably call it hacking, but the holding bank’s firewall is so laughable, it’s almost like they’re inviting her in.

“It doesn’t look like it. The request was made by one Moira Queen. He said his name was Oliver Queen. They must be related.”

“So, who’s Moira Queen to Merlyn Global?” he asks, crossing his arms and standing up again. Felicity types further, worming her way into the Merlyn Global employee records to search for Moira Queen. No results. She expands her search and finds one mention of her from almost 10 years ago when the company started to digitally store their information.

“It looks like she’s really high up. Not an employee or even a board member, but from this memo, she has executive power over everything. It says that no information will be kept from one Moira Queen and any requests will be honored fully and completely, no questions asked. Signed Malcolm Merlyn.”

Dig grits his teeth. “So, we’ve got what, a spoiled rich kid who’s got connections?”

Felicity shrugs. “At least he didn’t steal it.” Dig grumbles a little and starts walking to the conference room, before turning back.

“Would you mind being in the room for this one Felicity?” he asks.

“Okay…” she answers, trailing off in suspicion. Dig doesn’t usually ask her sit in on preliminary interviews unless the client is distressed. Having someone who’s willing to hug and comfort is always easier in those situations. And despite McDreamy looking for his wife, he seems calm and collected. Weirdly so.

“I want you to fact check everything he says. Everything you can. Something’s off about this guy and I wanna know what. And hide that money.” He turns away sharply, looking remarkably like an active army sergeant despite being retired and goes through the conference room door. Felicity zips up the duffle bag and pushes it under the desk, gathering her laptop and following him in, readying her erratic heart to deal with more Oliver Queen.

She enters the conference room, sitting at the opposite end of the table from McDreamy and setting up her laptop, trying not to look at him sitting stoically in her conference room like he owns the building. God, he’s handsome.

“Well,” Dig starts from his position standing just to the right of Felicity’s elbow. “Why don’t we start with your name, sir?”

McDreamy- Married Client Guy nods. “My name is…Oliver Queen.” Dig looks at Felicity expectantly. Right, fact check. She begins to type furiously while Dig continues.

“So, you’re looking for your wife?” Dig asks as Felicity searches for an Oliver Queen. And no results. No birth certificate, no social security, no bank accounts in that name. No online presence either. No Facebook, no Twitter, no fucking MySpace! As she scrolls through the code, she does find one thing. A plane ticket in his name two days ago from Hong Kong International to Star City airport. Passport stamped at Hong Kong customs. It’s almost like he spontaneously appeared in Hong Kong two days ago.

Oliver nods in answer to Dig’s question, his jaw clenching again and Felicity tries to tamp down the sudden instinct she has to soothe that tension with her tongue. Married. Client.

“When was the last time you saw her?” Dig asks, following the general progression of questions. Oliver flicks his gaze up, his intense eyes trained on Dig. Felicity can feel the tension in Dig ramp up a thousand points and thinks that their new client must be doing that brain X-ray thing to Dig. A moment passes and Dig suddenly moves, uncrossing his arms and grabbing onto the back of Felicity’s chair.

“It’s...been a while,” Oliver grunts out as if nothing unusual had just occurred.

Dig is panting slightly next to Felicity, but he gathers his composure quickly. “How long ago, Mr. Queen?”

Across the table, the ridiculously handsome man rolls his insanely muscled shoulders a little, looking uncomfortable for the first time since Felicity first laid eyes on him. “A few years maybe.”

Ah shit. Well, that sucks. Both Felicity and Dig know that the more time it has been since someone was seen, the less likely they’ll be found. The more weeks and months go by, the more likely it is that either they don’t want to be found, or that they won’t be alive to be found. Felicity pulls up a list of Jane Does found in the last few years in case any connections reveal themselves.

“Where was it that you saw her last?” Dig asks, standing up fully again.

Oliver grits his teeth again. Felicity can hear it from her position all the way across the room. Somehow.

“At home.”

“And where is that, Mr. Queen?”

His intense blue eyes flick up again, staring murderously into Dig.

“We need to refine our search Mr. Queen. Finding someone who’s been missing for a few years can be a needle in a haystack search and any information you give us will help us find her faster,” Dig reasons calmly despite the danger Felicity can feel rolling off of the mystery man sitting opposite her. He grits his teeth again, but he bites out a curt “Near Hong Kong,” before crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. It reminds Felicity of a pouting child. A grown-up, too sexy for his own good child with $30,000 in cash in a goddamn duffle bag.

“And what’s her name?” Dig asks.

And for the first time, Felicity sees Oliver drop a facade she didn’t know he had been holding up. His face relaxes and his eyes brighten and slide into a nostalgic wistfulness despite them being trained on the table in front of him.

“Austrana,” he answers and Felicity feels her eyes snap up from her laptop screen involuntarily, meeting his eyes instantly. He hits her with the X-ray brain vision and she quickly redirects her attention back to her screen, shaking the creeping cloudiness from her brain again to search for an Austrana Queen. No results. Another goddamn ghost. Curiouser and curiouser.

But before Felicity can cut in and figure out what the hell is going on with this surname, Dig asks the next question. The one that never fails to make husbands hulk out.

“Mr. Queen, this next question might be difficult, but I want you to be 100% honest with us. Is there any chance your wife ran away, perhaps to get away from a difficult home life or to be with a lover?”

And despite the volatility of the question, Oliver’s expression turns pained instead of livid, looking up at Dig with an intense sadness in his blue eyes. “Our son…” he starts. He swallows loudly and starts again. “She wouldn’t leave our son.”

Well, Married Client Guy also has a son. Isn’t that just peachy. 

Felicity can hear Dig shuffle next to her. A child never fails to cut right through the outer walls of Mr. John Diggle and get right to his big old teddy bear heart.

“So, Mr. Queen, you think…” Dig trails off, clearly not sure how to finish that sentence, but for the first time in the whole interview, Oliver starts to volunteer information.

“She was kidnapped. They left some…evidence on our...property that suggested she was kidnapped.”

Felicity looks up at him, feeling an intense and inexplicable anger suddenly surge in her. “There was evidence that your wife was kidnapped and it took you this long to do something about it?”

Oliver clenches his jaw, matching her intensity instantly. “The evidence was new," he huffs harshly, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table, fingers splayed out in front of him. “My wife is...hard to pin down. She often has to leave unexpectedly for...work. I wasn’t aware of anything out of the ordinary until this new evidence was brought to my attention.”

“And how long ago was that, Mr. Queen? And what is this evidence?” she shoots back, leaning forward over the table as well.

He snaps his mouth shut, leaning back, an intrigued look creeping over his face. He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at Felicity. He’s goading her, she can tell and she is not about to disappoint. She feels irrational anger coiling in her gut and she starts to stand up, a harsh question on her lips before she feels Dig’s hand on her shoulder.

She looks over, the anger leaching out of her immediately. She had somehow forgotten that Dig was still here. Married Client Guy with a Son made her forget herself so easily.

“Mr. Queen, as much as we’re flattered by your interest in our services as private detectives," Dig says in a comforting voice as he takes a few steps towards him around the table, "we don’t really work on kidnapping cases. Why don’t you bring this to the police? For that matter, the police in Hong Kong might be better equipped to find out where your wife was taken.”

Oliver looks calmly up at Dig, his arms still crossed. “She’s in Star City.”

Dig glances over at Felicity, locking eyes with her before looking back over. “How do you know that, Mr. Queen?”

Oliver looks down at the table for a moment and then looks back up. “She’s in Star City.”

An awkward silence stretches over the conference room as Oliver looks placidly at the two of them, his conviction somehow permeating the whole room. Felicity looks over at Dig, who is clearly unsure what to say or do next.

"Mr. Queen," she starts, her throat closely slightly on his last name, "again, while we appreciate the thought, there's not much we can that the police can't do just as well. And it's not really our place to confront kidnappers." His intense blue eyes snap up to stare her down, his face a placid mask again. Dig is still floundering at her elbow, so she forges on. "Like, what do you expect us to do?"

He seems confused by that.

"You're the best," he says simply.

"Mr. Queen," she starts again.

"Don't call me that," he snaps, surprising Felicity with his sudden ferocity. She flounders for a moment, lost for words. "Oliver then?" she offers quietly. His blue eyes affix themselves to her face and after a moment, he nods once.

"Well, then, as I was saying, Oliver, there's not much we can legally do here. We generally deal in finding people who ran away or were separated by circumstance. The police department here in Star City will be able to help you a lot more than we can. As much as we appreciate your business, and we really do, Mr.- Oliver. It's not our place to be dealing with ransoms and international law. Besides which, even if we found out where your wife had been taken, we don't have the muscle to confront kidnappers. I'm very sorry, but we really can't accept your case."

Felicity stares across the table, her face kind and open but she remains firm. He stares back, his eyes flickering from her to Dig at her side. He opens his mouth.

"1 million," he offers.

Dig steps forward towards him. "It's not a question of money-"

"The police can't do what you can," Oliver says, his eyes boring into Felicity. "Someone kidnapped my wife and I can't find her.  You  can find things the police can’t.  You  can get into things people want to keep secret.  You can find out where she is. All you have to do is find that out and you get $1 million. That's the deal."

The silence he leaves echoes through the room, and Felicity looks over to lock eyes with Dig.

"Felicity, John," Oliver says, drawing their attention. "You two are my only chance at finding the most important person in my life." He clenches his jaw and Felicity can tell he hates doing this. Begging. "Please," he pleads tightly, his eyes burning into her. She feels a tugging in her heart, like the organ is trying to escape her chest across the table and her vision becomes slightly fuzzy. Her world tilts the tiniest bit and the only thing staying in focus are those blue, blue eyes.

She feels a hand on her shoulder and looks up, breaking eye contact and shaking off those brain clouds that have been creeping in consistently since she first laid eyes on Mr. Oliver Queen. Dig's hand on her shoulder feels wrong. Wait, why would that be wrong. Stupid brain clouds. Married Client Guy with a Son is not that hot. Well, he is, but she's been in the presence of hot guys before. Her former boss Ray Palmer comes to mind. Plus, he's married with a kid. And is a client. There is no reason her brain should be going fuzzy and having trouble concentrating every time he trains his eyes on her.

Felicity shakes herself physically and looks intently at Dig, ignoring everything in her body telling her that she should be jumping across the table into Mr. Married Client Guy's lap. Dig is frowning a little at her, but he quickly dismisses it.

"Could I talk to you in the hall for a moment, Felicity?" he asks, nodding at her laptop to silently tell her to bring it along. She nods, stands and follows her partner into the hall, tucking the laptop under her arm. As she catches the door, she can't help but glance back at Mr. Oliver Queen sitting placidly in the furthest chair. His eyes catch her and she quickly looks away, closing the door definitively.

The cloudiness in her brain and the fuzziness around the edges of her vision stop immediately when the door snaps shut, leaving her with an almost too-clear head. Unsettlingly clear…

But, she refocuses her attention on Dig and what they're going to do about the Mr. Eyes currently sitting in their conference room.

"Well?" he asks, his eyebrows raising and his tone dead serious.

"What are you asking, Dig? What I think, what I found or what I want to do?"

Her partner pauses for a moment, considering. "What did you find?" he decides.

Felicity sighs, opening up her laptop and showing the results that came up for a Mr. Oliver Queen. "Literally nothing, Dig. I mean, this guy suddenly appears in the records two days ago. Nothing before that. No birth certificate, no social security, no fucking Facebook! He does not exist before he gets on the plane to Star City. He literally spontaneously appears in Hong Kong."

"And his wife?"

Felicity shakes her head, pulling up the lack of results. Dig huffs. "I'm guessing the empty screen means there's nothing on her either." Felicity nods, looking back at the screen to ponder at the bafflingly secretive family the Queens are.

"So," she starts, closing her laptop and looking at Dig. "Should we do it?" She instantly realizes how dirty that sounds. "And by it, I mean the job."

He looks at her silently for a moment. "I mean, can we even do it? Can we find someone who doesn't exist? How is that even possible? To be completely invisible like that?"

She shrugs. "Anything can be bought or coerced by someone powerful or rich enough. And I get the sense the Queen family has an abundance of power and riches."

Dog nods absentmindedly. "So, should we take it?"

Felicity shrugs again. "I don't know. I mean…a million dollars."

Dig clenches his jaw and nods sullenly as he glares at the floor between their feet. "Yes."

"And it's not like we haven't done the impossible before. Or the illegal. For much less compensation too," she adds.

Dig looks up. "So, you wanna take it?"

She opens her mouth, closing it immediately and considers. Does she want to take it?

Felicity shrugs one more time. "You know I love a challenge. And he seems...honest even if he isn't really forthcoming. I believe him. Even though he's a little prickly."

"And the cash in the duffle bag isn't weirding you out? Or the general lack of information? I know you haven't really dealt with shady characters before, Felicity, but this guy makes me nervous. He's holding onto some big secrets."

"I'm not denying that he's…mysterious, Dig. But, I mean, what are the chances he’s anything more sinister than a trust fund brat? Dressed like that?" She remembers his clean, brand-new clothes that look like each piece cost more than her entire wardrobe combined. A Burberry trench coat over clean dark wash jeans that fit him like sin and a light blue sweater with the hints of a button-up shirt underneath. And the less subtle hints of his insanely ripped physique underneath it all. Felicity shakes her head once to clear it again.

"He wouldn’t be coming to us if he was military or mafia," she reasons to Dig.

"Well, he sounds intriguing. I wanna meet this guy,” a familiar voice calls from down the hall. Felicity and Dig turn to see the silhouette of Sara Lance standing with a popped hip at the other end of the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks ever so for reading! And thank you to all who have commented so far, I really appreciated all the comments! I literally survive on nothing else, so please comment and give a kudos!  
The goal is to upload a chapter every week on Saturdays, but please be patient if it takes a bit longer every other week or so. Comments help keep me motivated, so keep 'em coming!  
<3  
Monkey


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